


That Sounds Like A Challenge To Me

by riots



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, Future Fic, M/M, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 06:03:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7606531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riots/pseuds/riots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Honestly, Iwaizumi just wanted to go to bed. He's got work in the morning. He's getting too old for this shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Sounds Like A Challenge To Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trash__universe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trash__universe/gifts).



“It’s different,” Hajime says again, less patiently this time. It’s hot in their room, and his sweat-damp hair is starting to cool against his skin now. He squirms over on the bed and wonders, not for the first time, why he _always_ ends up in the wet spot. “Not better or worse. Just different.”

“Oh, come on, don’t be shy,” Tooru says, voice sly. He slides up against Hajime’s chest, insinuating himself into the space between Hajime’s thighs and ignoring the way that Hajime hisses from the sensitivity. Jackass. “Everyone has favourites. It’s only natural. I’m sure Kentarou understands.”

Hajime doesn’t have to look up to feel Kentarou’s irritation and amusement as he bristles behind them. “Drop it, Tooru,” Hajime says, yawning. After sex, Tooru always feels too hot against him, flushed and needy, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t let him crowd in close and tuck his head under Hajime’s chin. “I don’t have a favourite.” He lets his eyes fall closed, feeling the slow of Tooru’s heart and listening to the soft sound of Kentarou moving around the room. Everything just gets so much softer and quieter after a good round like tonight.

“But if you did -” Tooru begins, and yelps when Kentarou snaps a hand down against his bare ass. Hajime looks up at the loud noise and he can’t help but grin at Kentarou, standing triumphant over them, his hands on his hips. Not a bad view.

“He’d choose me,” Kentarou declares. 

Hajime snorts. “As if I’d choose either of you,” he says. “I’d choose a nap.”

Tooru clicks his tongue but he subsides, warm face pressed against the soft skin of Hajime’s throat. “I know the truth,” he mutters. Hajime can hear enough of an edge to Tooru’s voice that he rolls his eyes, pressing a kiss to the top of Tooru’s head 

“Sure you do,” he says.

It’s an old argument, and one that doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. Hajime gets it, though. It’s...not easy, making three people fit together. Harder still when two of them have grown up together, inseparable basically since birth. Hardest when Hajime happens to be stuck in the middle of it all.

But. Well, they make it work.

“Washcloth, Hajime?” Kentarou asks from the bathroom. It’s a deliberate choice, to exclude Tooru, and a petty one, but Hajime figures that Kentarou’s earned a little pettiness. 

“Sure, thanks.” It’s a miracle that someone so concerned with their appearance would be so unconcerned with it now, but maybe it’s the afterglow that’s making Tooru content with lying in their mess. It’s certainly not that comfortable to him. “Hey,” he says out loud. “Are you gonna let us clean up?”

“I’m trying to be romantic,” Tooru tells him sourly. “Can’t you just be quiet and hold me?” 

There’s something very charming about the way Tooru pushes out his bottom lip and frowns. Hajime spares a moment to wonder if he was just in love with Tooru from the very start, or if Tooru trained him to it, a Pavlovian instinct to kiss him when he’s being stupid. Guess it doesn’t matter much in the end. Hajime tips Tooru’s head back and catches his mouth in a slow, deep kiss. “You need to work on your idea of romantic,” he says against Tooru’s lips.

“I am _very_ romantic,” Tooru tells him. “Look at all of the confessions I get!”

Kentarou drops the damp washcloth on Tooru’s face. “Doesn’t mean anything,” he says. He throws himself down on Hajime’s other side, pushing his nose against Hajime’s shoulder like a cat looking for pets. “Since they’re doing the confessing and you don’t do anything.”

“Guys,” Hajime sighs, and is summarily ignored. Of course.

Tooru yanks the washcloth off and sits up. “They see the romance in my _heart_ ,” Tooru hisses, deeply wounded. “Not that _you_ would know a thing about that.”

Hajime reaches for the abandoned washcloth and starts to clean himself off. “You know,” he says, to no one in particular, “I was kind of hoping for a quiet night in, followed by a good night’s sleep.”

“You’re old,” Kentarou says, and for a moment, Hajime holds the flickering hope that he’s headed another one of these squabbles off at the pass. He’s wrong. Kentarou sits up to face Tooru, and now Hajime is the only one still sprawled out, and somehow _still_ in the wet spot. “And so are you,” Kentarou continues blithely, jabbing a finger at Oikawa. “And gross.” He gestures down at Hajime, still lying between them and being _the only person getting ready for bed_. “That’s not romantic.”

Hajime feels vaguely offended. “Hey,” he says, like he doesn’t have a tattered wash cloth tucked down between his cock and his balls, trying to get all the come off before it dries and gets tacky. “Come on, now.”

Tooru draws himself up to his full height, shoulders squared and back straight. The effect is somewhat ruined by the crease lines pressed into his cheek and his mussed up hair. “I’ll show you romantic,” he growls, and he lunges forward.

“Oh, here we go,” Hajime sighs, and Tooru grabs Kentarou’s face, hauling him towards him so that he can kiss him, long and leisurely. It takes Kentarou by surprise, his dark eyes flying open before his hands reach out in retaliation, pressing into the soft flesh of Tooru’s thighs. 

Tooru may need work with the whole romance thing, but he’s always had kissing down to an art. Hajime doesn’t mind watching the two of them, watching the way that Kentarou relaxes, inch by reluctant inch, as Tooru licks into his mouth, their lips becoming slick and red and wet. Against Hajime’s thigh, he can feel Kentarou’s cock twitching in interest, and he can’t help but grin at that. Tooru’s fingers stroke over the back of Kentarou’s skull and Kentarou sags, his grip on Tooru’s thigh loosening as Tooru pulls away. “See?” Tooru crows. “I am the _best_ kisser.” He reaches over Hajime’s legs to curl his hand around Kentarou’s half hard cock, leaning in to kiss him again.

“You know,” Hajime says, “like, as much as I’m enjoying the show, I have work in the morning.” Kentarou groans against Tooru’s mouth, his tone arching up sharply into a whine when Tooru’s fingers tighten. “Remember that thing, adult job, pays the bills.” Despite himself, there’s a heat settling low in his gut again, burning hot at the sight of the hot wet shine of Tooru’s mouth, the way that a flushed Kentarou pulls at Tooru’s wrist. “Guys. _Guys_.”

Tooru pats his free hand against Hajime’s chest. “My honour is at stake,” he tells him, and when Kentarou lets out something like a growl and rolls his eyes, Tooru’s smirk broadens. He lets go to spit in his hand, and then he grasps Kentarou’s cock again, doing that thing with his wrist that always makes Kentarou’s eyes roll back in his head. 

“I think Kentarou was right about the whole gross thing,” Hajime says. He’s abandoned the washcloth to grip his cock, jerking himself lazily. “We have lube like, right over there.”

“He likes it this way,” Tooru says, voice low. “A little… _rough_.” Kentarou’s bigger, stronger, and he’s never had as much respect for Tooru as Tooru would like, but when Tooru’s in the zone like this, Kentarou is helpless. “Is this romantic enough for you?” Tooru asks, and the heat and control in his eyes makes Hajime swallow hard, his hand moving faster.

Kentarou’s already a mess, reaching out blindly to kiss Tooru again in that sloppy way he likes. Hajime can see the muscle in his jaw flex, his thighs trembling with the effort it’s taking to keep him upright, bent over Hajime’s legs. “...please,” Kentarou mumbles finally, like the words are being pulled out of him, and Tooru’s grin turns wide and beatific. “Please, Tooru.”

“As you wish,” Tooru says, magnanimous, like he’s doing Kentarou a favour. Hajime stretches a hand out to steady Kentarou as Tooru snakes his free hand between Kentarou’s legs. It’s an awkward angle, but Kentarou is still stretched wet and open from before and he grunts as Tooru slides his long fingers in. Hajime’s breath stutters in his throat and Tooru’s gaze shifts over to him. “But is that all you want, Kentarou?”

It takes Kentarou a minute to realize, and then he takes Tooru’s hint, scrambling to straddle Hajime, his palms spread across Hajime’s belly. It’s so good to see him like this, the furrow of his brow smoothed out and relaxed, his eyes wide and his mouth open. Hajime grins up at him as Tooru digs through the bedside table for another condom. “I guess this is a kind of romance,” he says, smoothing the flat of his hands down Kentarou’s thighs

Tooru reaches between them to grasp Hajime’s cock, rolling the condom on and guiding Kentarou down. All Hajime can see of his face is the flush high on his cheekbones and the heat in his eyes as he watches Kentarou slide down Hajime’s cock. Kentarou never takes his time, just fucks himself down in one rush, making them both groan. 

Hajime stares up at him for a moment, watching Kentarou with his eyes screwed shut, his abs fluttering under Tooru’s touch. He is getting way too old to be doing this shit twice in one night, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t feel pretty blessed anyway. “Good?” he asks Kentarou.

It’s enough to make Kentarou pull himself straight, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, voice remarkably even. Hajime thinks that’s probably got something to do with the way that Tooru is watching them. Kentarou’s never much liked losing to Tooru. “Just fuck me.”

Good thing Hajime follows instructions well. He fits his thumbs to the grooves of Kentarou’s hips and thrusts up hard. The answering moan from Kentarou is really all the confirmation that Hajime needs that he’s on the right path. 

The muscles in Kentarou’s thighs flex as he rides Hajime, teeth gritted and breath coming short. Behind him, Tooru’s found a place between Hajime’s calves, idly sucking a mark into the curve of Kentarou’s shoulder as he jerks Kentarou off. It’s nice, when it’s all three of them together, because Kentarou has never been patient, and he’s never been good at sitting back and letting someone else do the work. Tooru can keep him busy, his teeth against his skin in the way that he likes, and Hajime can let them do the work. He is the oldest, after all. That’s totally his right.

Tooru drags his tongue across the reddening mark on Kentarou’s shoulder and then presses down with his thumb, hard, and Kentarou gasps, his back arching as he tightens impossibly around Hajime’s cock and comes hard. With a neat gesture, Tooru catches the most of it in his palm. As Kentarou comes down, chest heaving, his eyes narrow at Tooru. He grabs Tooru’s wrist and leans in to lick his palm clean. “Now who’s gross?” Tooru asks fondly. Kentarou answers him with a kiss, feeding it back to him. Tooru makes a little noise, but doesn’t pull away. Hajime feels such a rush of affection for the both of them. It is a kind of romance. Their version, at least.

“Okay,” Hajime says. He’s still hard, but it’s not urgent. He’s already gotten off once tonight. “Remember that whole ‘work in the morning’ thing?”

Kentarou and Tooru exchange a look. “Is that a challenge?” Tooru asks. Kentarou lifts up off Hajime’s cock, and the two of them grimace a little. Tooru continues on, unbothered. “It sounds like a challenge to me. What do you think, Kentarou?”

“Definitely a challenge,” Kentarou agrees, and that’s when Hajime musters up the energy to feel nervous. The two of them agreeing, that always spells trouble for him. 

He props himself up on his elbows, narrowing his eyes at the two of them. “No,” he says. He shakes his head vehemently. “Whatever you’re planning, no.”

“But you don’t even know what we’re thinking,” Tooru protests, and Kentarou folds himself down next to Hajime, throwing an arm across his belly. “You should have more trust, you know. Relationships are built on trust.” He peels off the condom and settles down between Hajime’s knees. “Frankly, I’m offended. Kentarou is too.”

Kentarou looks completely unconcerned, languid with that post-fuck relaxation that looks so good on him. He’s more interested in draping himself across Hajime, mouthing wetly at the line of his jaw. “Lips are over here, buddy,” Hajime says. In revenge, Kentarou’s kisses trail lower, and Hajime feels the nip of his teeth against his throat. “That’s good too,” Hajime says, and Kentarou laughs against his skin.

“See?” Tooru says, and his breath is hot against the side of Hajime’s cock. “Trust us.” Hajime’s words die in his throat when Tooru sets his laser focus to sucking his brain out through his dick. It doesn’t matter how many times they do this, Hajime will never get used to the searing heat of Tooru’s mouth or the _things_ he can do with his _tongue_ \- Hajime can only groan and whine, reaching blindly for Tooru’s hair. It’s even worse when his attention is torn between Tooru’s skillful mouth and Kentarou’s hands, skating across his nipple and digging into the aching muscle of his thighs. This is really not a challenge he’s going to win.

Kentarou’s mouth finds his again and it’s all Hajime can do to kiss him back as Tooru works the tip of his tongue under the head of Hajime’s cock. He gasps, his hips jerking up helplessly as he comes. It’s longer than the last time, less intense, but by the time he’s shuddered through the end of it, Hajime feels completely boneless and content. “Okay,” he says blearily. “I trust you.” Kentarou laughs again.

“Good,” Tooru preens, and he takes his time crawling back up Hajime’s body to sit back on his thighs. “Good boy.” He curls a hand around his cock, back arched like he’s putting on a show as he works himself to completion. Hajime’s not sure who Tooru’s trying to impress, considering that he and Kentarou are about to fall asleep, but he still appreciates it. 

“C’mon,” Kentarou says, and Hajime can feel his eyelashes brush up against his skin. “Let’s go, old man. Lemme see it.” 

Tooru’s eyes narrow and his fingers tighten and with a catch of his breath he hits his peak, leaving stripes of come across Hajime’s abs. Hajime’s used to the hungry way that Tooru stares down at him afterwards, and he only sighs and shakes his head when Tooru reaches down to rub it into his skin. “There,” Hajime says. “Is your honour satisfied now? Can I sleep?”

Tooru fishes the damp washcloth out from where it’d ended up at the foot of the bed. “Oh, I’m _satisfied_ , alright.” He takes his time cleaning Hajime off and then shifts to Kentarou, careful and thorough. “Are you?”

Kentarou makes a noise of affirmation, already halfway to sleep. It’s sweet, really, that a couple of rounds can knock him out like that. He’s got the right idea, too. Hajime’s got to be up for work in like five hours. “Come here,” Hajime says, and Tooru bends willingly tucking himself up against Hajime’s side again. “You need some sleep, too.”

“I suppose,” Tooru sighs, and Kentarou reaches across Hajime’s chest to find Tooru’s hand. “I can do that.” 

Hajime looks down at their hands, linked together over his belly, and feels a total rush of affection for the two of them. “See?” he says after a moment. Kentarou is already knocked out, but Tooru makes a questioning noise, blinking at him. “Why choose between you two when I can have both?”

“I guess we do make a good team,” Tooru says, begrudging, but Hajime can see the curve of his smile, sleepy and genuine. That’s what he likes to see.


End file.
